Til Death
by IMTheresa
Summary: Only a few weeks since reuniting, Sam and Dean are on the trail of an alleged necromancer. Is Sam's research really just for the job? And how far will he go for Jessica?
1. Chapter 1

'Til Death

Chapter 1

A/N: One of my favorite times to write about is soon after the brothers reunite and Sam is fragile from Jessica's death. Maybe I just like to torture the boy, or maybe I keep looking for ways that he can heal. Thanks, as always, to Kelli for her typo-hunting skills. Thanks, too, to Larry for helping me indulge my focus, reading my stuff and always being there for a good laugh (bar and grill!)

oooOOOooo

The difficulty, my friends, is not in avoiding death, but in avoiding unrighteousness; for that runs faster than death. –**Socrates**

oooOOOooo

As was normal these days, Dean woke up to find his younger brother staring at the laptop screen. Sometimes Dean let him know he was awake and, other times, he secretly watched him. It had only been a few short months since Jessica's death and Sam was not dealing with it well. Actually, he was not dealing with it at all. More often than not, he awoke from a nightmare where her death was the main attraction and he would remain awake for the rest of the night. Dean had no idea how much sleep Sam was getting these days, but he was willing to bet money that it wasn't a lot.

He worried about his brother, but was ill-equipped to help Sam deal with his grief. The younger man blamed himself for Jessica's death and, while there was no way he could have stopped it, Dean didn't know how to make him understand that.

As he watched, unnoticed by Sam, Dean saw his brother brush away a tear. He desperately wished that Sam was a child again so his fears and sadness could be taken away with a hug, a joke, or a bowl of Lucky Charms. But Sam wasn't a child anymore; he was twenty-two years old and trying to hang on after watching the woman he loved die in their bedroom. That was a lot for anyone to handle, but what made it worse was how she died. It was at the hands of the same unknown thing that killed their mother when Sam was only six months old. Both women were consumed by flames while they were pinned to the ceiling. Both women died over Sam's bed.

Dean thought about what he should do, but decided to let Sam have his privacy. He realized that was the easy way out for him, but he knew Sam needed time to process his grief. He quietly rolled away from Sam, tears burning his own eyes.

oooOOOooo

When Dean woke again, sunlight was coming into the motel room from the separation between the curtains. Sam wasn't sitting at the small desk, nor was he in the other bed. Listening for a moment, Dean heard no noise coming from the bathroom. He tossed the covers aside and padded across the room; the bathroom door stood open. There was no note from his brother and nothing to indicate where he might have gone. Dean was contemplating his options when he heard the room door open.

"Oh," Sam began. "You're awake."

Dean saw the coffee cups and brown paper bag in his brother's hands and immediately relaxed.

"It's still early." he said, taking one of the cups.

Sam shrugged as he put the other cup and the bag on the desk.

"How long have you been up?"

Sam slipped out of his jacket, saying nothing.

"Sam?" Dean watched as he busied himself with the bag of food.

"Are you hungry?" Sam asked.

"We've got to talk about this, Sammy."

"Sam." he corrected. "And there's nothing to talk about."

It wasn't lost on Dean that his brother had yet to look him in the eye. He put his coffee down. "I'll be right back. Don't eat all the bacon."

oooOOOooo

Sam was back on the computer when Dean returned from the bathroom. He pulled on a pair of jeans before sitting across from him at the small round table.

"Thanks for getting breakfast." Dean said, then took a sip of coffee.

Sam nodded.

"What are you reading?"

"Looking through news stories for a new gig."

"You know, Sam," Dean began as he feigned interest in a container of food. "We could take a few days off. Hang out –"

Sam looked at him. "Why? You think I can't handle this? You think I've gotten weak?"

Dean looked up. "Sam, no, of course not. It's just –"

"Just what? Sam demanded, angrily.

"Hey!" Dean groused, matching his brother's tone. "I'm not the enemy here."

Sam immediately relented.

Dean waited a moment. "So, what have you found?"

"Not far from here; cemetery desecrations."

"Grave robberies?"

"Yeah. A lot of them. The bodies of the fairly recently dead are being taken. And I found this community website with a message board. People talking about seeing dead people." Sam shrugged.

"Could just be teenagers playing devil worship."

"I know. But it's close and it could be something else."

Dean looked at Sam closely. There was something about his tone that bothered the older brother.

"Eat up, then we'll head out."

oooOOOooo

Dean was used to Sam falling asleep in the car as they went from place to place and it seemed as if the familiar Impala was the only place Sam could get any kind of quality rest. The car had belonged to their father, until he gave it to Dean on his eighteenth birthday. The boys practically grew up in the car and Dean wondered if that was one reason Sam found it easy to sleep in it; it was the one familiar place in his brother's life.

He was also used to Sam waking up from a nightmare while in the car. He'd learned to recognize the signs that Sam was dreaming and the sudden waking rarely even made him flinch anymore. More times than not, Sam would call out Jessica's name as he woke up, but today he called out for his father.

"You okay?" Dean asked, pretending not to be surprised.

Sam straightened in the passenger seat and cleared his throat. "Yeah. Where are we?"

"About an hour out of Lewiston. You said that was kind of the center of the grave robberies, right?"

Sam nodded, still trying to clear his head of sleep. Dean watched him from the corner of his eye, but said nothing. Sam's jaw was already set in the way that Dean knew meant he wasn't willing to talk.

Dean parked in front of the office of the first motel they came to and Sam immediately opened his door. "I'll go."

The older Winchester watched as his brother walked into the office. There was definitely something going on with him and Dean admitted to himself that he was worried.

oooOOOooo

They spent the rest of the afternoon going through cemeteries, investigating the sites of the robberies. They presented themselves as police officers, lawyers, friends of the family; whatever got them access to the information they wanted. There were more details to gather, but it was getting late and the cemetery administrative offices were closed. Dean suggested they grab dinner and go over what they found back at the motel.

The brothers spent hours examining their information, looking for patterns and commonalities before giving up for the night and going to bed. Dean had a hard time falling asleep even though he was exhausted. He knew he was missing something and he couldn't stop thinking about the grave robberies they already knew about. He heard Sam's breathing change when he fell asleep and heard it change again when he started to dream.

"Sammy." Dean whispered. He was tempted to sit on the edge of his bed to be close when he woke, as he'd done so often when Sam was a child and would be scared awake from some dream or another. Of course he wouldn't do that; Sam wouldn't appreciate it and Dean wouldn't be able to bring himself to actually do it. Instead, he switched on the bedside lamp. It didn't shed enough light to disturb Sam, but it would keep the worst of the darkness away.

A moment later Sam jerked awake, calling out for Jessica. Even if the light hadn't been on, Sam wouldn't have tried to pretend nothing happened. He knew his voice had been loud enough to wake Dean. Sam tossed off the covers and went into the bathroom for a few minutes of privacy. Sweating and nauseated, he also thought he might be sick and preferred not to throw up into a trash can.

Dean was sitting in one of the hard chairs next to the small table where much of their work had been laid out earlier in the evening. Sam wasn't surprised; he was even almost grateful.

"You okay?" Dean asked. Even in the mostly dark room he could see his brother's face was pale.

Sam sat across from Dean and nodded. "Yeah. Sorry I woke you."

"It's okay, you didn't. I guess I can't stop thinking about this." Dean motioned to the paper and notes on the table. He looked at Sam. "So –"

"Dean, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine." Sam didn't sound convincing, even to himself.

"You're not fine, Sammy."

Sam looked at him.

"Sam." Dean corrected. "These nightmares, man –"

"Don't." Sam stood up and walked to the window. He leaned against the frame and stared into the parking lot through the blinds, then whispered. "Just don't."

Dean leaned back in his chair and sighed. "We're going to have to talk about this sometime."

Sam didn't respond. Dean waited a moment, then quietly joined his brother at the window. Sam glanced at him, but said nothing.

"There was nothing you could do." Dean said quietly. "I know I can say that a million times; until I'm blue in the face. But that won't make you believe it, will it?"

Sam shook his head. "I could have done something."

"What?" Dean asked.

"I – " Sam turned from the window. "Something."

"Sam –"

The younger man turned, angrily. "I don't know, okay? But I should have done something! I know what's out there and I didn't do anything to protect Jessica! I didn't tell her anything; I didn't teach her anything! I should have done _something_!"

Dean watched, helpless, as Sam lowered himself onto the bed and rested his head in his hands. Not for the first time, he wished Sam was a kid again because things had been so much easier then. He sat on the other bed, across from Sam.

"Hey." Dean said quietly. Sam didn't move. "Even if you had told Jessica everything, it wouldn't have mattered. We don't know what that thing is and we don't know how to protect people from it. If you had told Jessica anything, any of what we know, it wouldn't have protected her from that thing. It just would have scared her."

Sam looked at his brother, tears in his eyes. He didn't just want to believe Dean; he desperately needed to believe him. He looked thoughtful, then, without a word Sam crawled under the covers. Dean rested his hand on Sam's shoulder for a moment, then got into his own bed.

oooOOOooo

Sam was quiet the next morning. Dean insisted they go to the diner for breakfast before getting back into the investigation, but Sam could only choke down a few sips of coffee.

"Why don't you go back to the room and get some computer time in?" Dean suggested once he was done looking through the morning paper. There was no mention of any more grave desecrations. "I'll head over to Henderson and see what I can find out."

"Why are we splitting up?"

Dean did his best to appear nonchalant. "We have a lot of ground to cover. There have been grave robberies all over the county and it's a pretty big county."

"And you think I can't handle my part of the job."

"Sam, research is a big part of your job. I can't work the magic you do with the computer."

Sam knew that to be true, but that wasn't the real reason Dean wanted him to stay behind. His brother was worried; and probably with good reason. Sam relented.


	2. Chapter 2

'Til Death

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

oooOOOooo

Life is eternal and love is immortal; And death is only a horizon, And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. -**-Rossiter W. Raymond**

oooOOOooo

**Chapter 2**

Dean picked up where they left off the day before. He made a lot of headway in gathering information, but none of it seemed to help narrow down the possibilities. His father was a genius at spotting patterns and while Dean had inherited some of his skill and did his best to learn, he wasn't yet the master that John Winchester was.

It was frustrating that John ran off on his own, but Dean had to believe that he had a good reason. At first, he and Sam thought that John was in danger or had been taken, but in the several months since he disappeared, he had sent the brothers a few text messages with coordinates. These coordinates led them to places where he wanted them to work jobs. Dean suspected these jobs were either to keep them away from where ever John was, or so that he would know where to find them. Either way, while Dean did as he was expected to do, he hated the situation.

Closer to home, he also hated the way his brother was feeling. Sam left the family to attend college, but when he told John his plans, their father lost his temper in a way Dean had never seen before. He ended up telling Sam if he was going to leave, to stay gone and that's exactly what Sam did. While attending Stanford University in California, Sam excelled in his classes and fell in love. Sam never told Jessica about his life before college. He made up stories to explain why his family was distant and why he was out of contact with them. His anger toward John made it easy to fabricate things about him, but he never quite managed to make Dean out to be a bad guy.

Dean knew Sam felt guilty for Jessica's death and he understood that, but he could tell there was something Sam was keeping from him. He tried to push all that aside so he could concentrate on the job at hand.

oooOOOooo

"Hey." Sam answered his cell phone. "Find anything?"

"A lot of the same stuff we found yesterday. What about you?"

"I've been poking around and reading that community message board I told you about. I just found a post from someone who claims there's a group around here that's into necromancy."

"Bringing dead people back?"

"That's one form. Sometimes it's only to bring the spirit back."

"Any leads on this so-called group?"

"Not yet; nothing I'm confident about anyway. You on your way back?"

Dean noticed the anxious tone in Sam's voice. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to leave him alone after all. "Yeah. I should be there in about forty-five minutes."

oooOOOooo

As Dean drove back to the motel, trying not to obsess over his brother, he thought about what he knew of necromancy or conjuring the dead. Even the most basic divisions of magic contained references to necromancy. In medieval times, it was called nigromancy, meaning Black Magic, only later becoming known as necromancy because of Greek and Italian influences. Some believed there were two forms of necromancy. One, where the goal was to communicate with the dead for the purpose of obtaining information about the future or performing acts of which humans are not capable. The second form was physically raising the dead. John's research found that necromancers had never been able to truly reanimate the physical bodies of the dead, though the bodies could be controlled and manipulated by the necromancer.

But try as he might to keep his mind off Sam, Dean's thoughts turned to his brother. When they were kids, before Sam left for school, there was almost nothing Dean didn't know about him. Dean could read his younger brother like a book and always knew what he needed. Four years apart was a long time, though, and they were both different people. In some very important ways, Sam was a stranger to Dean now.

Sam's pain over losing Jessica scared Dean, though he would never use that word. It bothered him that his brother was going through something he couldn't understand or really help him with. It also bothered him that John was probably the one person Sam could relate to right now and he was ostensibly staying away from them by his own volition. But what bothered Dean the most was how much his gentle younger brother was acting like their father. John Winchester loved his sons, but he was a hard and bitter man. Those were not qualities Dean wanted to see in Sam.

oooOOOooo

Sam glanced up as Dean walked into the room. He had scoured every Internet source he knew about and looked through every book they had that belonged to their father looking for references to necromancy. He told himself it was simply research for the job; he was trying to find more information that could lead them to the group mentioned on the community message boards.

"Got enough stuff there, Geek Boy?" Dean asked, seeing his brother on his bed, surrounded by the laptop and books.

"Just doin' my job." Sam said, a hint of sarcasm slipping out.

Dean tossed a folder containing the information he gathered onto the desk, then slipped out of his jacket and dropped it on the empty bed. "Find anything else?"

Sam closed the laptop. "No." He didn't look at his brother as he stood and stretched. Standing at the desk, he looked through the papers in the folder and added them to the piles he'd organized earlier.

"Have you eaten today?" Dean asked.

"I raided the vending machine a while ago." Sam answered absently. He was updating the map he'd hung on the wall with the dates and locations of grave robberies Dean investigated earlier.

"Uh - huh. What did you have?"

"So I noticed earlier that most of the desecrations happened on a Tuesday or Thursday."

"Huh." Dean joined his brother at the map hanging on the wall. "What did you eat?"

"Let it go, okay?"

Dean sighed, but he caught sight of something on the map and his thoughts changed focus. He stepped back for a moment then grabbed a pencil from the desk. He drew a line from the robberies in the order they occurred and when he was done, there was a perfect pentagram depicted on the map. The brothers exchanged a look.

"So…" Dean paused. "Does that mean they're done or they're going to start over at the first cemetery?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, but today is Tuesday. Wanna go hang out at a cemetery?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

oooOOOooo

"Do you think it's weird the police aren't more interested in this?" Dean asked later as they were staking out the first cemetery to be targeted by the robbers. They were alternating between walking around, using the trees as cover, and watching the entrance to the parking lot.

Sam shrugged. "I'm more curious about the families – wait, you know, that's one angle we haven't really looked too closely at."

"What do you mean?"

"Are these random robberies, or requested by the families? Assuming we're really dealing with someone trying to bring people back, is he doing it for kicks or is he for hire? I can't believe I just thought of that."

"I blame the lack of sleep and food."

Sam stopped walking. "Will you get off that, already?"

"Not until you start taking better care of yourself."

"You're one to talk." Sam muttered.

"What does that mean?"

"It's not like you're Mr. Nutrition. Beer and nachos does not dinner make."

"You know what? I'm not going to let you do this. I'm not going to let you turn this around on me. You're not taking care of yourself and eventually it's going to wear you down. You're going to get sloppy and you're going to get hurt, or get me hurt –"

"Is that what you're really worried about?"

Dean rolled his eyes, trying desperately not to take a swing at his brother. "Don't be an ass."

Sam started to say something, but changed his mind. He started back on the patrol.

oooOOOooo

They gave up around 3:00 and went back to the motel room. Dean was surprised that Sam fell asleep almost immediately and even more surprised that he was still asleep when Dean woke up just after 10:00. He made coffee and took a shower, both of which Sam slept through. With a full mug, he settled at the table and started to go through the information again. He made a list of the family members before booting up the computer to start the background checks.

Sam truly was better at researching vague topics than he was, but Dean could hack into all the right places to investigate just about anyone. While waiting for the machine to go through its diagnostics, he flipped through the notepad he'd written the family names on and noticed a page near the back with Sam's handwriting on it.

He looked at his brother, still sleeping soundly, and looked back to the page in front of him. "What the hell, Sammy?" he muttered, reading it again. No longer able to concentrate on the task at hand, Dean stood up and began to pace.

He stopped only long enough to refill his coffee cup, but was too charged up to drink it. He contemplated waking Sam and demanding answers, but knew that would do no good. It would only make Sam angry and he would retreat beyond Dean's reach.

Sam woke up, on his own, a few minutes later. Hearing him stir, Dean turned the note pad back to his list of names and sat down in front of the computer.

"Mornin'." Sam muttered as he sat up. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "It's late. Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"You needed it." Dean said, glancing at him.

Sam rubbed his eyes. "You have breakfast yet?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah. I haven't been up that long."

"What are you doing?"

"I thought I'd get started on the background checks of the family members; see if there's anything there. I just got the computer started, though."

"I'm gonna take a shower." Sam said, tossing off the blankets and getting out of bed. "Then we can hit the diner. We can work at the library so we both can use a computer."

Dean watched as Sam grabbed some clothes from his duffle bag on his way to the bathroom. He knew a good night's sleep could cure a lot of things, but Sam's attitude change was nothing less of a miracle. Dean didn't believe it was genuine.


	3. Chapter 3

'Til Death

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

oooOOOooo

The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death. –**Unknown**

oooOOOooo

"You slept pretty good last night." Dean noted as they walked across the street to the diner.

"Yeah. So you come up with anything?"

"No, I told you I hadn't been at it long when you woke up." Dean noticed as Sam looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"You slept pretty late, too, then?" Sam asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah, I guess. We didn't get in until after three, right?" Dean said as they settled into a booth.

"Yeah, after three." Sam agreed. He busied himself with the menu.

Dean watched him for a moment, then turned his attention to ordering breakfast. He wanted to get everything out on the table, but didn't think it was the right time. He wasn't yet sure how to handle what he thought he'd found in the notepad.

They ate breakfast mostly in silence. Before leaving the diner, they got directions to the library and spent the next few hours researching the backgrounds of the families whose loved ones' graves had been robbed. In the days before, they had spoken to some of the people they were now investigating, but none of them seemed raised any particular suspicions. Now, with another stack of notes and data between them, Sam and Dean felt overwhelmed.

"This sucks, Sam." Dean grumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah."

"We got a whole big pile of nothing."

Sam sat back in his chair. "Yeah."

"That all you got, College Boy?"

Sam grinned at him. "Yeah."

Dean shook his head. "Lame, dude. What are we doing here, Sammy?"

"Trying to find out what's going on."

"We've got nothing. All we know is that there have been a bunch of grave robberies. The police don't have any ideas and don't seem to care very much, the families all seem to check out. The biggest clues we have came from some Internet message board and even that isn't much to speak of. Sam, I don't think we're going to find anything here."

"Let's just give it a little longer." Sam suggested.

"Sam." Dean sighed. His brother wore the expression that Dean could never ignore. "So what do we do next?"

"I don't know." Sam admitted.

Dean looked thoughtful. "What about the message board?"

"What about it?"

"You've read it, right?"

Sam nodded.

"What if you post?"

"Post what?"

"A message saying you want to find the necromancer group."

Sam looked at him. "Wouldn't that be too easy?"

"Only if it works."

"Let's go back to the room. I have the URL bookmarked."

"I love it when you talk high tech." Dean grinned.

"Shut up."

oooOOOooo

Dean read the last few posts on the page as he stood over Sam's shoulder. One was written by someone claiming to know the necromancers, but there was no way to know if it was legitimate.

"What should I say?" Sam asked.

"Play the grieving loved one who wants to bring someone back." Dean wanted to kick himself when he felt his brother stiffen. He put a hand on Sam's shoulder before moving to the edge of the bed.

"Sam –"

"It's okay." Sam said quietly. He put his hands on the keyboard and typed the message. He left the room a few minutes later, saying he was going for a walk. He was still gone three hours later.

oooOOOooo

When Sam left the room, he headed in a direction at random. He didn't know how long he had been walking when he found himself near the first cemetery that had been targeted. His probably would have continued on his way if he hadn't seen the faint glow of a light not too far away. He hadn't noticed the sun set and somewhere in the back of his head he knew that Dean was probably starting to worry the he was still gone. He watched for a moment before heading in the direction of the light. Hiding behind a tree, he watched a group of five people digging up a fresh grave.

He had checked the burial records before he and Dean spent the night watching this same cemetery the night before. The grave he was now watching being desecrated was the site of the most recent funeral; a man by the name of Ryan Criss. He died at the age of 27, the victim of a hit and run driver. He was in a coma, what the doctors deemed a vegetative state, for nearly six weeks before his family was able to make the painful decision to end his life support.

Suddenly, too many things were occurring to Sam for him to process. There was so much information back at the motel room, so many possible patterns and combinations, but he was almost sure he remembered a similar scenario for at least one other of the missing bodies. It could take forever to get any information by going through the message board, but the very people they were trying to find were standing right in front of him. All of his training was screaming for him to call Dean, if for no other reason than back up, but another part of him encouraged him to leave his brother out of it.

He knew it was wrong and he knew it was dangerous, but he knew it might also be his only chance to talk to them without his brother. It might be the only way --

oooOOOooo

Dean paced in the motel room. He'd tried to call Sam a few times, but his calls went straight to voice mail. Dean suspected he was fine, that he'd turned his phone off on purpose. He hoped Sam was only blowing off steam, but he was afraid there was something else. He went back to the page in the note pad several times, reading Sam's notes. Not only was he researching things relevant to solving the current case, Sam was researching various methods of necromancy and Dean was afraid he was actually planning to try to bring Jessica back.

Sam was too smart to try something like that, wasn't he? To actually bring his dead girlfriend back to life… it was impossible for one thing, and dangerous for another. She would be only a shell of the real woman, a body completely under the control of the necromancer, it wouldn't be the real Jessica. Dean knew Sam understood that, but he also knew that grief did strange things to people.

"Damn it, Sammy." Dean muttered to himself as he got his brother's voicemail yet again. He went back to pacing, idly wondering if he should go out to look for him.

oooOOOooo

Sam watched as a nondescript black van moved along the service road and parked near the grave. The body was removed from the coffin and carefully placed in the back of the van. He was about to leave his hiding place when he heard a noise behind him.

"Who are you?" came the question as he turned in the direction of the noise. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." Sam paused. "I – I was reading the community message board and –"

The woman in front of him smiled sweetly. She was probably around fifty years old and didn't seem to be at all afraid of the tall man she'd encountered hiding behind the tree. "You've lost someone, haven't you?"

Sam was taken aback and immediately felt disoriented. He leaned against the tree for support.

"It's all right." she soothed. "How long ago?"

"Three months." Sam heard himself say.

The older woman looked troubled. "That's quite a bit of time. I'm not sure I can help you." She smiled again. "But why don't you come with me and we'll talk about it?"

"Come with you where?"

"Back to my home. I have to take care of Mr. Criss first, but we can talk after that."

"Take care of him?"

"His family, his mother in particular, wants him back."

"You can –"

"Come with me, Sam." she held out her hand. When Sam took it, it didn't occur to him to wonder why she knew his name.

oooOOOooo

Trying to keep his mind off of Sam, Dean turned his attention to the job. He started going through all of the information again and when he was ready to take a match to it, he noticed something that had eluded him.

"Son of a –" he ran his hand over his face. "How the hell did we miss that?"

oooOOOooo

"My name is Awena." the woman said. Sam didn't remember how he got to her home, but he realized he was sitting in a softly lit room. A warm fire was glowing in the fireplace and the furniture around him seemed to be from the Victorian era. "Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you." Sam responded. He thought it should worry him that so much seemed to be going on without his knowledge or consent, but somehow he felt nothing but peace. Although about the same age as his father, Awena had a delicate grandmotherly quality that he found very comforting.

"Tell me about her." Awena said. "This person you lost."

"Her name was Jessica. She died in a fire."

"You loved her very much."

Sam nodded as tears stung his eyes.

"Three months is a long time, Sam."

"I know. But what you're talking about isn't even possible."

She smiled. "Isn't it?"

"There are very few things that aren't possible." Awena smiled knowingly. "Where is your Jessica? Is she nearby?"

"She was buried in California."

"Do you want her back, Sam?"

"More than anything." he whispered.

Awena smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

'Til Death

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

A/N: Thanks to Kelli, as always, and to everyone who has read so far. I'm so not sure about this chapter, but I'd love to know what you think.

oooOOOooo

Death ends a life, not a relationship. --**Jack Lemmon**

oooOOOooo

Dean didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't stand to be in the motel room any longer. He'd confirmed his suspicions after finally recognizing what should have been a simple pattern to spot. He knew John wouldn't be very happy with him if he knew he'd missed something so obvious, but he shrugged off the feeling of inadequacy and slid behind the wheel of the Impala, determined to somehow find his brother.

As it turned out, he didn't have to look very hard. When he pulled out onto the main road, he saw Sam walking toward the motel. Dean pulled over and jumped out of the car; he wasn't sure he if was more relieved to see him or angry at him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean demanded. Apparently, at the moment, he was more angry than relieved. He stopped when he noticed the expression on Sam's face. It had been years since he'd seen Sam looking so serene, but something about it almost scared the older brother. "Sam?"

"I'm sorry, man. I know you called a bunch of times, but I needed time – I'm sorry."

"Are you all right?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Where have you been? You left hours ago."

"I was walking; I just lost track of time."

"You lost track – look, I found something when I was spending all that time in the room alone."

Sam didn't take the bait. "Let's get something to eat. I'm starving."

Dean watched as Sam got into the car. Sighing, he followed his brother.

"Where to?"

"There's a bar a couple miles down the road."

"Since when do you want to go to a bar without me dragging you?" Dean asked.

"Just drive." Sam smiled.

Dean looked at him for a moment then pulled out onto the road. He wasn't at all happy.

"So you were just out walking." Dean said after the settled at a corner table with two beers and a plate of nachos between them. "For over three hours. Just walking."

Sam shrugged. He stared at the plate of food for several moments. After taking a sip of beer, he cleared his throat.

"So." Sam paused. "So, do you think it's possible? Actually bringing someone back?"

"No, Sam. Everything we've ever found about necromancy, everything Dad found – the body can be reanimated, but it's not really the person. It's just an empty husk bending to the will of the necromancer."

Sam was still looking down.

"Sam? Talk to me, man. What's going on in that freaky brain of yours?"

"Dean, I think it might be possible. It might be for real."

"No, Sam, it isn't."

Sam looked at him and smiled. There was an innocence, a hope, in his eyes that almost broke Dean's heart. It was the same look Sam had when he was little, before his father and brother let him in on the family secret. Back before Sam knew about ghosts, spirits and demons.

"Dean –" he began, pleading. "I met a women in the cemetery. Her name is Awena and she says she can bring people back."

"She said – you met – the cemetery? What were you doing there?"

"I just ended up there. There were people digging up a grave –"

"_What?_ Sam –"

"Dean, listen to me. Awena helps people. She brings back people who shouldn't have died yet. People who were in accidents or –"

"Sammy – Sam – no. Even if it is possible, it isn't right."

"Some _thing_ killed Jessica. It wasn't her time to go. If I can get her back –"

Dean ran his hand over his face.

"Awena told me not to tell you." Sam sounded disappointed. "She said you wouldn't understand; that you'd try to talk me out of it. I should have listened to her and just gone with her back to California."

"You were going to leave with her? A perfect stranger?"

"It's for Jessica, Dean."

Sam's look of wide-eyed innocence was really starting to bother Dean. In the weeks since they'd reunited Sam had been understandably moody. He was angry and depressed; the nightmares that didn't allow him a decent night's sleep were wearing him down. As much as Dean hated to see him that way, it was almost worse to see him like this. He wanted his brother to be happy. He wanted for Sam whatever Sam wanted for himself, but there was something wrong here and Dean didn't know what it was or how to fix it. That was not something he was comfortable with.

"Let's get out of here." Dean said. "We need to talk about this and we can't do it here."

Sam followed his brother to the car and Dean drove back to the motel, stopping first at a convenience store for a six-pack of Corona. He wanted something a whole lot stronger, but it was too late to find an open liquor store. They settled on either side of the small table in their room.

"Tell me about these people." Dean said gently. "Tell me about Awena."

"She's some kind of a witch or something." Sam said, sounding more like a child with each word. "She's been living here for a few months, helping people get their loved ones back."

"Where are all these loved ones?"

"Back with their families. Obviously they can't go out into public. Some people have moved away to keep the secret safe –"

"Sam, we didn't come across any people who had moved away. We talked to the families, remember?"

"Dean, that doesn't matter. What matters is that Awena can go with us to California and bring Jessica back –"

"Why would she do that, Sam? What's in it for her?"

"She gets to help people." Sam said as his cell phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket.

"Sam?" Dean began.

"It's Awena. I told her I'd be back after I got my stuff."

"Don't answer it, Sam." Dean held out his hand. "Give me the phone."

Sam shook his head and jumped away from Dean when he tried to grab the phone from his hand.

"Awena, I'm sorry I'm late. I ran into my brother and –"

Dean didn't like the look Sam gave him as he listened to the woman on the other end of the phone. As subtly as he could, Dean stood up and tried to appear unconcerned. He tensed when Sam ended the call saying he would take care of it; he had a feeling he was _it_. He had a very bad feeling.

"I have to go." Sam said, sounding more like the brooding brother Dean was used to.

"Where, Sam?"

"Back to Awena's. We're leaving in the morning."

"Leaving?"

Sam stood up and walked toward his brother. Dean had the feeling it wasn't to give him a brotherly hug.

"Sammy –" Dean said, backing away. The look in Sam's eyes now was anything but innocent. "What's going on here, Sam?"

"You want to stop me. You want to stop Awena from helping people."

"Sam, I'm your brother. I'm on your side."

"Not this time." Sam shook his head, advancing toward Dean.

The older brother hit a wall before he was expecting it. Sam pounced on him with lighting speed and Dean took a few punches, not yet ready to defend himself against his little brother. It didn't take long for him to realize that if he let Sam get the better of him, he would be lost forever. Dean didn't believe this Awena person had any real power over the dead, but she seemed to have power over his brother.

Dean trained Sam to fight. He sparred with him every day when they were growing up and even now to stay in shape. He knew Sam's every move, but unfortunately, Sam knew Dean's as well. Dean would never admit it was a lucky punch that allowed him to gain the upper hand, but that didn't stop him from taking full advantage of the situation. He managed to knock Sam out, but he knew it wouldn't be for long. Dean scrambled to find something to tie Sam to the chair and once that was done, he gathered a few weapons and a book of exorcisms. He wasn't convinced that Sam was possessed, but there was something definitely not right about him.

Dean pulled a container of holy water from his duffle bag. He hoped the water would have no other affect on his brother than to wake him up, but it would let him know if Sam was possessed. Sam shook his head, but it still hung low. It took him a moment to look at his brother. Dean didn't like seeing the fear in his eyes. Sam should never be afraid of him.

"Sammy?"

"What are you doing to me?" Sam asked. Again, he didn't sound like the Sam Dean knew.

"Sammy, who am I?"

Sam looked at him. "What?"

"Who am I? Do you know?"

"You're Dean. You're my brother. What's going on? Why did you tie me up?"

"Don't you remember the phone call you just got?

Sam shook his head. "Dean, what's going on?"

"Do you remember where Awena took you when you left the cemetery with her?"

Sam nodded.

"Tell me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Just have a little chat with her."

"You can't go there by yourself; she's not alone."

"How many people?"

"I don't know. I saw maybe ten. Untie me, Dean."

"I don't know that you're all the way back, Sammy."

"It's Sam." he corrected.

"Nice try, kid, but I'm gonna need more than that." Dean said as he checked one of his guns. "Tell me where she is or I'll have to do this the hard way."

Sam looked at him.

"I'll find her, you know I will. Come on, Sam, help me out here."

Sighing, Sam gave into his brother and told him where to find Awena.

"I'm gonna take care of this and I'll be back."

"You're not going to leave me tied up here. Dean!"

Dean paused at the door. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I don't know what kind of power this woman holds over you."

"Dean!" Sam called after his brother as he left the room, locking the door behind him. "Dean!"


	5. Chapter 5

'Til Death

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

oooOOOooo

Life is eternal and love is immortal; And death is only a horizon, And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. -**-Rossiter W. Raymond**

oooOOOooo

Dean knew his plan was far from solid, but solid plans take time and he had precious little of that. He didn't really think Sam would be tied up in the motel room for more than a few minutes, but that was all the head start Dean would need. There was only one car between them and since Dean was taking it, Sam would lag even further behind. He hoped to have the situation handled by the time Sam got to the house. If he got that far.

Dean found the house with no problem and he parked across the street, surveying the area for several minutes. He saw no activity and carefully made his way to the front window. He'd gone around the entire house before he got to a window where he could see someone inside. An older woman was sitting in a Victorian wingback chair, a reading lamp just over her shoulder. Her lap held a large leather-bound book; she turned a page then looked directly at the window where Dean was peering in. He knew she shouldn't be able to see him because of the light inside and the darkness out, but he had the eerie feeling that she knew he was there.

He backed away and considered his next move.

"Hold it right there." he heard from behind him. Suddenly, his options were severely limited. "Put your hands up."

Dean did as he was told and, after being relieved of his weapons, he was led into the house.

"Hello, Dean." Awena said.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, suspiciously.

"It's nothing mystical. Your brother told me. I expected him back some time ago."

"He won't be going anywhere with you."

She shrugged. "We'll see. Have a seat, please."

Dean remained standing.

"We can be civilized about this." Awena said. "Would you like something to drink?"

"What are you going to put in it?"

She laughed. "Do you think that's what I did to your brother?"

"I don't know what you did to him." Dean said angrily. "But you're not going to take him anywhere."

"I can help him."

"He doesn't need that kind of help. And I don't believe you can actually do what you say anyway."

"A skeptic, huh? I like that. But you've heard the stories of what I've done here."

"Yeah, I've heard stories. I haven't talked to anyone who has admitted it's happened and I haven't seen any of the people you supposedly brought back."

Awena stood up and walked across the room. She poured herself some Brandy. "Are you sure I can't get you anything?"

"Positive. So what's your deal?"

"My _deal_?" she turned to face him. "I help people."

"Uh-huh." Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "So let me talk to someone you've _helped_."

"For obvious reasons, they're very private."

Dean looked around the room. As far as he could tell, there were no talismans or supernatural items of any kind. He watched as Awena returned to her chair.

"Dean, your brother is in pain. He loved Jessica very much and from what he tells me, it wasn't her time to go."

"Of course he'd say that. What did he tell you about how she died?"

"Only that it was in a fire. But there seems to be more to it than that; something evil."

Dean almost laughed at her melodramatic tone. "Look, I can take care of my brother. He's going to be fine. Bringing Jessica back, even if it was possible, is wrong and not the way to help him."

She looked at him curiously. "Or is it that you're afraid if he had her back, that he'd leave you?"

Dean felt sucker-punched, but he remained stoic.

"I can read people, Dean, and you're an open book to me. You're not happy that Jessica is dead, but you're not quite sad, either."

"I didn't even know her."

"That might explain it. Except that I can also see how desperately you don't want to be alone. You lost someone else close to you – your father. He's missing."

Dean looked at her.

"You and Sam are trying to find him, but you're afraid he doesn't want to be found. You don't think he's dead; you think he just didn't want to be with you anymore." she watched Dean closely. "And you're afraid that Sam will leave you, too."

"Get out of my head, okay?"

"So what were you planning to do once you got here? Kill me?"

He said nothing.

"You were hoping I was something evil, so you'd have permission to do it. But now you see I'm just a woman and you're not allowed to kill humans. What a conundrum." she smiled.

"If you can do what you say you can, then the rules are different, human or not. But right now, my main priority is Sam. I want you to leave him alone, take off whatever spell you put on him."

"You think I put a spell on him?" she sounded amused.

Dean stared at her.

"You wanted to say he wouldn't leave you to go with a total stranger of his own free will, but you don't really believe that, do you? You're sure he's going to leave you eventually because everybody does. Your mother left, too, didn't she?"

Again, he left like he'd been sucker-punched. "My mother died."

"She died protecting your brother." she said thoughtfully. "You're much easier to read than Sam. That's very interesting."

Awena sipped the brandy and watched Dean. He was still in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest, and unmoving. But inside he was in an emotional chaos. She almost felt bad for him.

"Do you want to talk to your mother?"

"Leave my mother out of this." he said, hoping he didn't sound as shaky as he felt.

"So what are we going to do here, Dean? If I prove to you I can do what I say, you'll feel justified in killing me. I really don't want to die tonight." she waited, but Dean didn't respond. "But I don't want you to mess things up for me either, so I'm afraid –"

She nodded to someone behind her and before Dean could react, he was overpowered and drugged.

"Get him out of here." Awena said. "You know what to do."

Dean was carried from the room as Awena called out a name. A moment later a young man came in. "Yes, Awena?"

"We're out of here. Tonight."

"What about the other brother?"

"Unless he shows up before we leave, we don't need to do anything about him. He won't find us."

"That's a risk –"

"Just start packing."

oooOOOooo

Sam freed himself and pushed aside the anger he felt while grabbing various weapons. Without even thinking about it, he hotwired a car in the parking lot and drove toward Awena's house. Whatever her influence had been, it was gone and all he wanted to do was get his brother out of her grasp.

Her house was on just over an acre of land and there were no close neighbors. He thought about parking across the street, but he was expected at the house. He hoped Awena wouldn't realize he was no longer under her control; he also hoped he could stay outside her circle of power.

"Sam." a young woman smiled, surprised, when she opened the door. "We thought you changed your mind."

He smiled. "No, I just got held up. Where's Awena?"

"Uh – " the woman glanced toward the stairs. "Sit down, I'll get her."

He noticed the activity around him; some people were rushing around and others were carrying cardboard boxes outside. Awena joined him in the den a few minutes later. She looked stressed, but was trying to hide it.

"Sam –" she smiled. "I thought you decided against coming back."

"No, I just had to get away from Dean. You were right, I shouldn't have told him anything."

She smiled. "Cut the crap."

He looked surprised.

"Sam, I'm psychic. I can read people and I know you're lying. You know that Dean is here. You sent him here."

He started to say something, but she interrupted him. "I don't have time for this. As you can see, we're packing to leave. It's time for us to move on."

Sam tried not to look her in the eyes, but he found he couldn't turn away. Suddenly he was in a massive battle of wills and he seemed to be losing.

"Maybe you could help move some of the boxes out to the van. The others know what to take and they're doing the packing. Would you mind?"

Sam shook his head. "Of course not." Sam left the room to do as he was asked.


	6. Chapter 6

'Til Death

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

oooOOOooo

Is death the last sleep? No--it is the last and final awakening. --**Sir Walter Scott**

oooOOOooo

Dean woke up with a pounding headache. He looked around; he appeared to be in one of the bedrooms, but he wasn't restrained in any way. Managing to get out of bed and holding onto the wall for support, he made his way to the door.

"Crap." he muttered, seeing the double deadbolts. "What the hell?"

He carefully turned around to examine the rest of the room. The one window was barred and he saw no other way out. "This is bullshit."

Knowing it wouldn't be there, Dean reached into his jacket for his cell phone. The pocket was empty. He made his way back to the bed and sat down. After a few minutes of rest, his head was more clear; he looked through every piece of furniture in the room for some way to pick the locks. He came up empty. Going back to the window, he noticed it faced the back of the property. There was nothing around but trees. He managed to get the window open and he started to examine the bars.

In the meantime, Sam was helping to load boxes into the van and trying to figure out what he was going to do. He didn't understand exactly what power Awena had over him, how she'd gotten him to do what she wanted earlier, but he was also somehow able to block it now. He didn't know how long that would last and he had to find his brother before Awena and her people left. He was afraid it might already be too late.

Sam walked back into the house for another box, but instead he slipped upstairs hoping Dean was being held in one of the bedrooms. He got to the top of the stairs before he was stopped.

"Sam."

He turned to face Awena.

"Shouldn't you be loading boxes?" she smiled.

Sam hesitated.

"I guess we don't need to play games anymore, do we?" she asked. "You're here for your brother."

"Where is he?"

"He's here. But you and I have some unfinished business to talk about."

Sam could feel himself slipping.

"My friends and I – we're leaving tonight. It's up to you whether or not we go to California." Awena smiled at him, her fingers on a pendant that hung on a chain around her neck. "You could have Jessica back tomorrow."

Something tore at Sam's heart. He saw Jessica's smile; he heard her laugh. He desperately wanted to put his arms around her and feel her warmth.

"A few short hours and she could be with you again." Awena said gently. "You could start your life over with her, settle down. You could go back to law school – obviously Jess can't go back to Stanford, but there are other law schools –"

Sam shook his head. "Where's my brother?"

Awena looked shocked; she rubbed the pendant more insistently. "Think about Jessica, Sam. She loved you as much as you loved her; she wanted to be with you forever. It wasn't her time to go, Sam, you said so yourself."

Sam knew he should be doing something else. This isn't why he came into the house, but he couldn't remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, Sam, why don't you load a couple more boxes so we can get out of here?"

He nodded and slowly went back downstairs.

oooOOOooo

Dean's head was still pounding, but he kept trying to find a way out of the room. One area of the bars was weak and if he had some sort of tool, he'd have no trouble getting it loose. Frustrated and feeling sick, he sunk back down on the bed.

"Come on, Dean." he said to himself, resting his head in his hands. "You are _not_ going to let that bitch take Sammy. Think!"

He looked around the room again. It was empty except for the bed.

"If life hands you lemons –" he muttered as he stood up.

oooOOOooo

"Are we ready?" Awena asked as she joined her crew on the driveway.

"Everything is loaded." a young man said.

"Good. Thomas, Sam and I will follow in the car. The rest of you go ahead now. We'll meet up in a few hours. Does everyone know where we're going?"

"We've got the route."

"Excellent. I'll see you soon." she smiled and watched them get into the van. As the vehicles pulled away, she turned toward Sam. He was sitting on the porch steps.

"How are you?" she asked, as she sat next to him.

"I'm all right." he said, running his hand over his head.

"You look confused about something."

"No. Well, it's just –"

"Don't worry about anything. Just think about Jessica."

"Do you really think you can do it?" he asked softly.

"Well, it has been longer than normal, but I think so."

Sam nodded, staring into space.

Awena rubbed the pendant as she put her hand on top of Sam's. "Just think about Jessica."

oooOOOooo

Dean climbed out of the window, leaving the ruined bed behind him, and jumped to the tree nearby. He was dizzy and still felt sick, but he had to find Sam. He climbed down the tree and jumped the last few feet to the ground. He sat for a few minutes to get his bearings, then carefully made his way around the house. He saw the vans pulling out and hoped he wasn't too late.

"So what do you think you want to do with her first?" Awena asked.

Sam smiled. "I don't know."

"What kinds of things did you do before?"

"It didn't matter what we did. We just loved being together. A lot of times we'd just sit on the couch and study, but we were together."

"That's sweet." she patted his hand as her driver walked out of the house carrying the last of the luggage. "Well, it looks like it's time to go."

Sam stood up with her.

"Oh, there's just one more thing I need you to do before we go."

"What's that?"

She handed him a small black box. He took at it, but looked at her confused.

"Just press the red button when we get clear of the house." she walked away, but turned when she noticed Sam wasn't following. "Sam?"

"I –"

"Sam." Dean said as he came from the side of the house.

Sam whirled to face his brother. "Dean!"

"Sam, you've got to listen to me –"

"Sam, it's time to go." Awena said, touching the pendant.

"Sam." Dean said, afraid he was going to pass out. "Sam, you know this isn't right. You –"

"What was right about Jessica dying?" Awena asked. "If it hadn't been for your brother, Sam. you would have been there to protect her."

Sam looked back at his brother.

"You were happy at school, weren't you, Sam?" Awena asked. "You can go back – you can go back to school and you can have Jessica – you don't have to live this life anymore. You don't have to live in a car, going from town to town. You can have the woman you love back in your arms –"

Dean watched Awena, trying to figure out how she was manipulating his brother. More than once, Dean thought if he hadn't come for Sam that Jessica would still be alive. He knew that the thing that killed her would have won eventually, but maybe if he hadn't pulled Sam away to go look for their father, her death would have been postponed. Sam told Dean that he didn't blame him for Jessica's death, and Dean believed him, but he was afraid Awena was going to win this round.

"Sammy – " he whispered.

Sam stared at him with an anger Dean had never seen directed his way before. He saw Awena rubbing the pendant between her fingers. He took a chance and lunged forward, managing to reach her before anyone could react. He grabbed the pendant and yanked it from her neck. She screamed and tried to get it back, but even not at his best, Dean was faster than a fifty year old woman.

"Thomas!" she yelled.

"Sam –" Dean began as he collapsed to the ground.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, rushing forward. "Dean?"

"It's the amulet, Sam. She's controlling you with the amulet." Dean's eyes rolled back in his head.

Sam took the charm from him and slipped it into his pocket. Awena was rushing toward the car, Thomas behind the wheel. He had no hope of stopping them without some kind of weapon and he was worried about his brother. As the car left the driveway, Sam turned his attention back to Dean. His pulse was strong and his breathing steady, but he was unconscious. Sam managed to get Dean to the car and headed back to the motel.

At a red light, he pulled the amulet from his pocket to look at it. It didn't look familiar to him. He turned his attention back to Dean and checked his pulse again. It was still strong.


	7. Chapter 7

'Til Death

Chapter 7

_Disclaimer:_ Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

_A/N: I had version A and version B of this story in my head when I started to write it, but somehow I've moved on to version C. Sometimes those Winchester boys just have a mind of their own! I appreciate the reviews and private messages; it's incredibly helpful to know what you guys think!_

oooOOOooo

Never make a companion equal to a brother. Hesiod

oooOOOooo

"Sam!" Dean jerked awake as Sam pulled into the motel parking lot.

"Right here." Sam assured him.

Dean sat up straight and looked around. "What happened? Are we back at the motel?"

"Yeah." Sam parked. "You okay?"

"I'd be better if the car would stop spinning."

"I'm sure you were drugged. Stay there, I'll help you."

Dean opened the door as Sam walked around to the passenger side of the car. He practically fell into Sam's arms.

"Dean –"

"I'm okay." Dean lied.

Sam nearly carried him to their room and helped him onto the nearest bed.

"Dude, you may need to see a doctor."

"No doctor. I'll be fine." Dean said, sounding anything but fine. Sam filled a glass with water and sat on the edge of the bed while Dean drank it. "Tell me what happened."

Sam recounted the last few minutes of their encounter, then pulled the amulet from his pocket.

"I'll see if I can find out what this is." he said. "Have you seen anything like it before?"

Dean shook his head, though he couldn't really see the pendant clearly. Concerned, Sam watched him for a moment before moving to the table where the laptop sat.

"I called the police." he said, waiting for the machine to boot up. "I gave them a tip about a couple vans and a sedan headed out of town."

"Was that a good idea?"

"If Awena got away, we'd probably never find her again."

Dean opened his eyes, but couldn't focus on his brother. "Are you all right?"

Sam turned his attention to the computer.

"Sam?"

"Yeah." he whispered.

"Sam –"

"I'm okay. Just get some rest. I'm gonna see what I can find here."

Dean closed his eyes, knowing he was going to have to bring this up again when he felt better.

oooOOOooo

A few hours later, as the sun was coming up, Sam's stomach started to growl. He had checked on his brother several times throughout the night and allowed himself to become frustrated over not finding any information about the pendant. He slept for a couple of hours, but was awakened by a nightmare about Jessica. After taking a quick shower and checking on Dean again, he ran across the street to the diner and came back with a light breakfast and coffee. Dean was just waking up.

"Sammy –" he muttered.

"It's Sam." the younger brother corrected without conviction. "You okay?"

"I feel hung over." Dean complained as he sat up. He took a sip of coffee from the cup Sam offered. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Some. I haven't been able to track down that damn pendant." Sam sat across from him on the other bed.

"I'll be right back." Dean said before heading into the bathroom. He felt worse than he was willing to let on to Sam.

In the bathroom, Dean turned the water on to mask the sound and barely got to the toilet before he threw up. He leaned back against the wall for a few minutes, gathering his strength, before cleaning up and rejoining Sam in the bedroom.

"Nice try." Sam said as he looked up from the computer. "But the walls in this place aren't that thick. "You okay?"

"Not really."

Dean's answer scared Sam because he rarely admitted he wasn't okay.

"Lay down." Sam said. "What can I do?"

"Don't hover." Dean crawled back into his bed.

Sam watched him and was about to say something when his cell phone rang. He didn't take his eyes off his brother while he was on the call.

"Who was that?" Dean asked, his eyes closed.

"The sheriff. He's got Awena in custody and he wants to talk to me."

Dean looked at him, the room starting to spin.

"Dean –"

"I'll be okay. You go."

"I don't want to leave you alone."

"Go talk to the cops." Dean said. "And see if you can find out what the hell that bitch spiked my punch with."

Sam laid a hand on his forehead.

"Back off." Dean warned, barely above a whisper.

Sam pulled his jacket on and reached into the pocket for Dean's phone. "I found this on the counter in the house." he plugged it into the charger. "I won't be gone long, but call me if –-"

"I'll be fine. Be careful, Sam."

oooOOOooo

Sam made his way to the sheriff's office, unsure about how the conversation would go and worried about his brother. He knew doctors and hospitals were always the last resort, but having no idea what Awena's people used on Dean, he wasn't confident the effects would just wear off on their own. He told himself if he couldn't find out what was used, or if there was no improvement by the time he got back to the room, he would force Dean to see a doctor. Willing talking to law enforcement was also a last resort, but sometimes it was necessary.

The sheriff was what one would expect of a rural cop; polite and friendly enough. Sam had the feeling he was sharper than he presented himself to be, but he found that was often the case. It was a tactic he and Dean often used to get information out of people.

"So tell me again how you got involved." the sheriff asked after getting some background information from Sam.

"Well, like I told you when I first hit town, I'm a freelance reporter. I heard about the grave robberies around and thought it might make an interesting story, so I started poking around. I happened to see a van coming out of the cemetery last night and I followed it to the house I told you about. I waited around, watching, and when it looked like they were ready to book, I called you."

The sheriff looked unconvinced, but seemed willing enough to accept the story. Truth be told, he couldn't explain his lack of interest in the grave robberies before now and felt guilty. His was an elected position and in addition to feeling an obligation to protect his county, he needed its residents to vote for him.

"Based on what we found in the vans, these people were responsible for the grave robberies."

"I'm just glad they can't hurt any more families." Sam said, hoping to stay on the good side of the officer.

He nodded.

"So," Sam hesitated. "Would it be possible to see Awena?"

The sheriff looked surprised. "Why?"

"Reporter's curiosity." Sam smiled.

He nodded again. "If she's willing to see you, I'm fine with it."

oooOOOooo

A few minutes later Sam was sitting in an interrogation room, across the table from Awena.

"Where is my pendant?" she demanded.

"What did you do to my brother?" Sam countered.

She sat back and smiled. "We're at an impasse."

"What power does the pendant hold?"

She continued to smile, but was suspicious. "Just who the hell are you?"

"Someone who knows about things most people don't."

"I can still read you, even without my charm." she said, turning serious.

Sam tried to block his thoughts, but he could tell he wasn't being successful.

"Your girlfriend really did die in a fire." Awena said. "But it wasn't just a fire, was it?"

"Look, just tell me what you've done to my brother." Sam said, not wanting to delve deeper into a conversation about Jessica.

"Oh my god." she breathed a moment later, realizing the truth. "It also killed your mother."

Awena was clearly stunned; she couldn't take her eyes from Sam's face. She pushed her chair back, as if trying to keep distance between herself and Sam. "He'll be fine in a few hours, though he might get worse first. It was just an herb, but he'll feel pretty nauseous for a while. Broth and other liquids will do him well."

"What did you see? Could you tell what killed Jessica?" Sam asked anxiously.

Awena shook her head as she stood up and moved across the room. "No. I – I can only feel it. So much evil! You need to leave now. I don't want to have anything to do with whatever killed your girlfriend and your mother."

"But –"

Awena knocked on the door behind her. She turned to look back at Sam. "You know what it was. It's inside you."

The sheriff opened the door a moment later. Sam called after her, but Awena rushed out, the pendant apparently forgotten.

Sam sat, stunned. He didn't move until the sheriff came back to the room and asked him if he was all right. A few minutes later he was back in the Impala, but it was several minutes before he felt stable enough to drive.

oooOOOooo

Sam stopped at a small grocery store on his way back to the motel room and bought some soup and a few other things that could be put in the microwave. He didn't want to be gone from his brother any longer than necessary, but thought having some provisions in the room would be a good idea.

Dean was awake, but obviously not feeling well, when Sam opened the motel room door.

"You look worse than I feel." the older brother commented. "What happened?"

"I – uh – " Sam was still shaken. "She said she gave you an herb; you should be better in a few hours."

Sam put the grocery bag on the floor next to the microwave stand. Underneath was a small refrigerator, where he put the beverages he'd purchased.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Dean looked at his brother, struggling to sit up. "Sam?"

Sam didn't notice his brother's distress; he could only think about what Awena had said to him.

_It's inside you._

"Sammy, talk to me, man." Dean said, finally managing to sit up with his back against the headboard. The little movement made him feel like he'd run a marathon, but the concern for his brother outweighed his own discomfort.

Sam tried to hide his shaking hands as he sat on the edge of Dean's bed.

_It's inside you._

He shook his head.

"Sam –"

"She could still read me; she's psychic even without the charm." Sam said. "She felt what killed Mom and Jessica."

"She knows what it was?"

"No. She just said it was evil. And –"

_It's inside you._

"And what?"

Sam shook his head again. "She wouldn't tell me what the pendant was for, but she wanted it back pretty badly until – until she –"

"Until she freaked you out. Come on, Sam, don't let her do this to you."

"You're right. Look, I, uh, I gave the sheriff a cover story about being a freelance reporter and he seemed to buy it. I think somehow Awena was using that pendant to keep the cops from looking into the robberies. I think she used it on the families, too."

"You think she really is just a person?"

"A witch maybe, but I think she's human. I want to find out about that pendant, though." Sam said, trying to push the other thoughts from his head. He looked at his brother. "You look like crap, Dean."

"Nice." Dean said as he sank down into the bed.


	8. Chapter 8

'Til Death

Chapter 8

_Disclaimer:_ Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

oooOOOooo

What we commonly call death does not destroy the body, it only causes a separation of spirit and body. --**Brigham Young**

oooOOOooo

Sam fell asleep while surfing the Internet in search of any information about Awena's pendant.

_It's inside you._

He didn't know how long he'd been out when he jerked awake after a nightmare. He immediately glanced over at his brother. Dean was still asleep on the bed, curled around a pillow. Sam glanced at the clock before gently touching Dean's forehead, checking for a fever. Dean moaned and opened his eyes.

"Sam?"

"Yeah. It's late, you should go back to sleep."

Dean rolled over and opened his eyes. "You get any sleep?"

_It's inside you._

"Yeah." Sam said quietly. "A little."

"Come here."

"What? Why?"

"Come here." Dean said again.

Reluctantly, Sam moved closer to the bed again. Dean reached up and grabbed his collar, pulling him close. "Don't lie to me, Sam."

"Hey!" Sam pulled away. "I'm not lying. I said I got a little sleep."

"There's something going on with you. I can see it in your eyes." Dean sat up, happy to find the room didn't start to spin. "What happened with that woman in the police station?"

_It's inside you._

Sam walked to the other side of the room and glanced back at his brother. Dean was getting out of bed, but he still didn't seem all that sturdy.

"I gotta take a leak. Then you're going to talk to me."

"Clearly you're feeling better." Sam said when Dean came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. He stopped at the small refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. He handed one to Sam and sat across from him at the small table.

"Big brother's back. Now spill it. She could feel the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

_It's inside you._

Sam clasped his hands on the table in front of him. "Yeah. She got really freaked out; forgot all about her charm."

"You find anything on that yet?"

Sam shook his head.

"So what did she say to you?"

"Nothing, man."

Dean looked at him. His voice softened. "What did she say to you?"

Sam sighed. "I asked her if she could see what killed them. She said I know what it was because it's inside me."

"That's crazy, Sam. You were a baby when Mom died. How could you have had anything to do with that?"

Sam looked away.

"Sammy –"

"It's SAM!" he exclaimed. Sam stood so quickly the chair fell over behind him. He angrily paced the room.

"Sam." Dean said pointedly. "Listen to me, man. You didn't have anything to do with what happened to Mom. And you were with me when it came for Jess."

Sam looked at his brother, desperately wanting to believe him.

"Don't you think if there was anything evil about you – if you had anything to do with what happened to Mom – Sam, Dad and I would know."

"Maybe Dad does know." Sam said sadly. "Maybe that's why he hates me."

"Hates you? What the hell are you talking about, man? Dad doesn't hate you."

"He was always so mad at me – and he kicked me out."

Dean stood up and moved closer to Sam. "Listen to me. Dad does not hate you. He wasn't always mad at you. From the time you were old enough to talk, you pushed his buttons. He might have been tough, but that was to make us strong. He knew what was out there and he didn't want us to get hurt."

Sam sat on the edge of the bed. "This whole thing – it's just – _damnit!_" He leaned over, covering his face with his hands. "I just want to find Dad, you know? And I wish – I wish – "

Dean waited, and a moment later Sam looked at him. He had tears in his eyes. "I wish Jessica hadn't died."

"I know. I wish that, too, Sam." Dean sat next to him.

"I would do anything to have her back."

"No, you wouldn't. Even if that Awenna chick could do what she said, you wouldn't have really gone through with it. In your heart, you knew it was wrong."

"I don't think so, man." Sam whispered.

"Well, I do." Dean said, with certainty. "I do."

Sam looked at him, his expression saying everything he couldn't. Dean playfully slapped his thigh. "Come on, we've got a couple more hours of darkness. Let's get some sleep and start fresh in the morning."

oooOOOooo

The brothers slept until just before ten in the morning. After cleaning up, they went to the diner for breakfast.

"You think there's any reason for us to stick around here?" Dean asked after the waitress left them with coffee. "We have Awena's pendant, she apparently can't do her mind control mojo without it. If she's human, we can't kill her."

Sam looked thoughtful. "It feels unfinished."

"What else can we do?"

"We still don't know if she can do what she says she can. We don't know why she was here. If she can really raise the dead –" Sam shrugged. "Besides, we still don't know what the hell that pendant is."

Dean sipped at his coffee. "You think the sheriff will let me talk to her?"

"I don't know. Why?"

The older brother shrugged. "Maybe she'll tell me what she wouldn't tell you. She doesn't have as much to torture me with." Even as Dean said it, he knew it wasn't really true.

oooOOOooo

The sheriff was walking past the diner when he saw Sam and Dean sitting at a table near the window. He had a feeling they knew more about his prisoner than he did, but he didn't think they were working with her. He also didn't believe they were really reporters, though that was the story Sam told him. After hesitating for a moment, he walked inside and stood next to their table.

"Good morning." he smiled, seeming nervous. "I – uh – I was wondering if you had a few minutes?"

The brothers exchanged a look.

"Sure," Dean said. "Have a seat."

The sheriff sat down and clasped his hands in front of him. "I don't have any idea how to say this without sounding completely insane, but –" he glanced around. The diner was nearly empty, but the lunch rush would be starting soon. "I think there's more going on here than meets the eye. And I think you know what it is."

Sam and Dean exchanged another look.

"I'm not sure what you mean." Dean said.

"The prisoner and her people had a bail hearing this morning. Bail was denied because they're flight risks. I don't like the idea of them being in my county. I think they did more than dig up some graves."

"What do you think they did?" Dean asked, carefully.

The sheriff rubbed his face. He was unquestionably nervous. "I heard rumors about the dead coming back to life. I know it sounds crazy –"

"Maybe not."

The sheriff looked at Sam. "What?"

Dean shot Sam a warning glance.

"You're not really reporters." the sheriff said. "What are you?"

Dean glanced at his brother, who shrugged. "We're not reporters. We're more like investigators, I guess you could say, of the paranormal."

Dean was surprised that the sheriff didn't seem bothered by this piece of information. He nodded his head. "So do you think it's true? Can they do it?"

"Uh – this doesn't shock you at all?" Dean asked.

The sheriff smiled. "Nothing shocks me, Son. So?"

"We've seen a lot, but bringing someone back from the dead?" Dean shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Contacting the spirit, sure. Even reanimating the body, maybe. But not really bringing someone back." he glanced at Sam and saw his expression darken.

"I'm a good cop." the older man said. "I care about my people. It doesn't make sense to me that I didn't investigate these grave robberies more. None of my deputies even seemed interested. That isn't like us."

"What about the families?" Dean pointed out. "Did any of them seem bothered by the lack of investigation?"

"No. What are you suggesting?"

"She had a pendant, a charm. We think she was able to control people with it."

"She _had_ it?"

"We have it now."

"Should that make me feel better?"

Dean smiled. "We're the good guys."

The sheriff sat back in his chair looking thoughtful. "So without this pendant, she's just a normal person?"

"Seems that way. Except she's psychic."

"Why not?" the sheriff sighed. "They were really digging up the graves. Why?"

"We don't know." Dean said. He glanced at Sam again. His brother was staring at the table and didn't even seem to be listening to the conversation. "I'd like to talk to her. She knows what Sam, my brother, and I are."

"Come by the station whenever you want. She and her crew will be there until trial." he stood up. "And maybe later you can tell me about some of those things you've seen."

Dean watched him walk out of the diner, then turned his attention to Sam. He was still staring down, his hands flat on the table.

"What's wrong?"

There was no response.

"Sam?"

"I need to get out of here." he said, standing quickly. "I'll meet you back at the room later."

"Sam –" he stopped when Sam turned to look at him. Dean wasn't quite sure what his expression meant, but he knew enough to give Sam the space he was asking for.


	9. Chapter 9

'Til Death

Chapter 9

_Disclaimer_: Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

_A/N:_ I'll be very interested in what you think of this chapter; especially the end.

oooOOOooo

Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavor, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned - **Charlotte Bronte**

oooOOOooo

Dean considered going directly to the sheriff's office from the diner, but realized he was going to need a plan to deal with Awena. He went back to the motel room and, inside, he flopped onto the bed with his hands clasped behind his head. He was worried about Sam, but tried to keep his mind on Awena. After a few minutes, he moved to the table where the computer and books sat. Sam truly was better at the research than Dean, but the older brother wasn't incompetent. He picked up a book at random and started leafing through it. As an idea formed, his reading became more targeted.

He was startled a few minutes later by pounding on the motel room door. He slipped a gun into the waist of his jeans before looking through the peephole. One of the sheriff's deputies was looking impatient outside. Dean opened the door.

"The sheriff needs you down at the station. Your brother is causing quite a ruckus."

Dean followed in his own car. It wasn't like Sam to cause any kind of disturbance unless it was specifically for a job they were working; to cause a distraction. It hadn't occurred to him that Sam would try to see Awena when he left the diner. Dean realized the brothers were still getting to know each other again after a four year separation, but he also knew that Sam was his responsibility and he would have to pay more attention if he was going to help Sam through his grief over Jessica. He just wished he didn't feel so out of his element. John Winchester taught his boys a lot, but how to handle emotions was not one of those things.

The sheriff was sitting behind his desk when Dean followed the deputy into the office.

"Your brother is lucky I'm feeling generous today." the sheriff growled. A glance at the deputy was all it took for him to leave the room. "I'm not going to arrest him."

"Arrest him? For what?" Dean asked.

"He came in here wanting to talk to Awena. She agreed, so I put them in a room together. Next thing I know I hear all this yelling and screaming; sounded like furniture being thrown around. We got in there and your brother had her pinned against the wall."

"He _what_?" Dean was shocked.

"I want you to get him out of here and he's not to come back."

Dean nodded. "Sure."

"You can come back later to talk to her like you wanted, but you'd better be on your best behavior. If she doesn't agree to talk to you, then it's over. The last thing I need is a lawsuit brought on by a prisoner."

"You don't have to worry about me. Where is Sam?"

"In a holding cell. I'll have him brought out."

Sam refused to look at his brother when he was brought into the sheriff's office. Dean didn't like to see him in handcuffs, but they were removed soon enough and they were in the car a few minutes later. Sam stared out the window as Dean drove the short distance back to the motel. Inside the room he went immediately into the bathroom and closed the door.

Dean sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed his face. Sam had always been the most gentle of the Winchesters. He was also probably the most level-headed when in the middle of a job, but Dean recognized this was no regular job for Sam. So little time had passed since Jessica was killed and, for the most part, Sam had refused to talk about it. His feelings were probably as raw now as they had been the night she died.

What was Awena's game, Dean wondered. He had worked his way through several theories since their first encounter with her, but he still had no idea what was going on. He watched Sam as he came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. The younger brother sat opposite Dean.

"I lost it." he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

He still wasn't looking at Dean.

"Why did you even go there?" Dean asked gently. 'You knew I was going –"

Sam's head hung low and his hands were loosely clasped between his knees. "I can't let you fight my battles any more."

"Fight your battles? What are you talking about?"

"Ever since we were kids you always had to come to my rescue. Even since we've been back on the road – I have to grow up, man. I have to take care of things on my own."

"Sam –" Dean leaned forward. "We're a team. When you fall, I'm there to pick you up. When I fall –"

"You don't fall."

"That's not true. But that isn't what this is about. Now, tell me what happened."

Sam seemed to fold into himself and somehow his 6'5" frame appeared much smaller. Things were so much easier when Sam was a kid because he was always so willing to share his thoughts and feelings, but he seemed to keep too much to himself these days. Dean assumed a lot of that was because the trauma of losing Jessica was so intense, but he also wondered if Sam was intentionally keeping something from him.

"Sam." Dean prompted gently.

"I just wanted to know why. Why she got into my head to find out about Jess and why she tried to use it against me. How sick is that?"

"Yeah, it's pretty sick." Dean agreed.

"When she saw what killed Jessica, she got scared. I thought I could use that to my advantage and get her to talk – it didn't work and I lost it."

"That's pretty obvious." Dean said. "You had her up against the wall?"

"Not my best moment, I admit." Sam said. He still hadn't looked at his brother.

"So she didn't tell you anything?" Dean asked after a moment.

Sam shook his head.

"Hey." Dean hesitated, then laid his hand on Sam's forearm. The younger brother looked up sharply. When they were kids, physical displays of affection weren't unusual but Sam wasn't sure of the last time Dean touched him even in this simple way. "I understand how volatile you are right now. Losing Jess is still fresh, you're having nightmares, not sleeping – I get it. But you need to figure out how to get that anger under control or it's going to kill you, man."

"I'll be fine." Sam said, with no emotion.

Dean sighed. "Yeah. So you okay right now?"

Sam nodded.

Dean patted his arm before standing up. "All right. I've got an idea about how to deal with Awena so I want to go to the sheriff's office. I think the sooner we get through this, the better. I want to get out of this town."

"What's your idea?"

"Use the pendant against her."

"We don't even know how that thing works, Dean."

"Yeah, we do."

"What?"

Dean stood up. "It's not the pendant itself. It could be anything; what makes it work is the spell that was put on it."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not sure about this, but I think it's an old Celtic thing." Dean found the marked page in the book on top of the pile and handed it to Sam.

"This can be placed on any personal item." Sam said thoughtfully. He looked up at Dean and smiled. "You found this? Good work."

"I'm not a moron." Dean said. "Besides, you searched for every charm and pendant known to man and I just figured it was time to try another angle."

"But how can you use the pendant? It's not yours."

"Define 'yours'." Dean said. "How long have we had it? Besides, I've been wearing it for a couple of hours."

Sam's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? Dean –"

"Don't worry."

"Famous last words." Sam muttered.

Dean smiled at him before heading to the door.

"I'd tell you to be careful, but I think the boat has sailed on that."

oooOOOooo

"I really wish you two would leave me alone." Awena said as she was led into the interrogation room.

"You don't have to agree to this." the sheriff said.

Awena looked at him. "I don't have a choice."

The sheriff glanced at Dean, then turned his attention back to his prisoner. "What does that mean?"

"You wouldn't understand." she said. "It's fine; you can leave us alone now."

He looked at Dean again and then left the room.

"Are you going to try to choke me, too?" she asked.

"Probably not." Dean leaned against the wall. "Are you going to tell me what I want to know?"

"I've asked before and I'll ask again; why would I do that?"

"You got inside my brother's head; you know about the thing that's in our lives. You don't want the kind of trouble it could bring you."

"What makes you think it would come after me?"

"What makes you think it won't?"

"We can do this all day. You're lucky I don't sue you."

"Sue me?"

"Sue your brother, anyway."

"That would be productive."

Awena sighed. "You know, I just really want you and your brother out of my life."

"Then tell me what I want to know."

She looked uncertain. Dean hesitated a moment before he pulled the pendant from under his t-shirt.

"You can't use that against me. It's mine."

"It's been mine for a little while now." he said, rubbing it gently. "Now, you want to tell me what you're doing here?"

oooOOOooo

Dean hesitated outside the motel room door, his hand on the knob. Sam would want to know everything Dean found out from Awena and he wasn't sure how he was going to tell him. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Sam was lying on one of the beds, his eyes closed. Dean closed the door quietly, hoping not to wake him. Sam rarely got a full night's sleep and Dean tried to let him catch as many of these cat naps as possible. Besides, it would keep him from having to share the information right away.

He was sitting in one of the chairs, reading one of his father's books, when Sam bolted up in bed calling out Jessica's name. Dean hadn't even noticed he was dreaming and he was startled by the sudden noise.

"You okay?" he asked, trying to cover his shock.

"Yeah." Sam took a deep breath. "Sorry, man. How long have I been out?"

"Not long. I've only been back a little while."

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"Yeah. My idea worked like a – charm." he grinned.

Sam groaned. "So? You got the information?"

"Yeah." Dean turned serious. "Sam –"

"What's wrong?" Sam asked as he pulled a couple bottles of water from the refrigerator and sat near his brother.

"It's just – I don't think you're going to like what I have to say."

"Dean, there's no way what Awena had to tell you was going to have a good spin."

"Yeah." Dean glanced away.

"Dean?"

"Here's the deal. One of the commonalities we found – all the families were middle class and above? Turns out that was the key. That and the hit and run accidents."

"What do you mean?"

"She targeted people with money. Then someone in her crew would do the hit and run. She'd give it a day or two, then approach someone in the family." Dean stopped when Sam's eyes clouded.

"Go on." Sam said quietly.

"Sam –"

"Go on."

Dean took a deep breath. "She'd use the pendant to convince them to give her money to reanimate the body."

"So she really can do it?" Sam was shocked.

"Reanimate, Sammy, not bring back to life. They dug up the body, she worked her mojo and then would send the body back home."

"If she could control them with the pendant, why did she have to do the necromancy thing?"

Dean glanced away.

"Why, Dean?" Sam demanded.

"Because she can."

"That's it?" Sam stood up and paced. "That's why she puts people through – so why did she go after me? I sure as hell don't have any money."

"The pendant has a pretty wide circle of power, but it only lasts for a relatively short time. It was about time for them to move on when we hit town. She decided the best way to get her kicks and take care of business was to get you out of town. She figured I'd follow –"

"Was she going to reanimate Jessica?"

Dean said nothing.

"Was she?" Sam growled.

"That was her plan."

"Why?" Sam asked as his eyes filled with tears. "Why does she do that to people?"

"What can I tell you? She's sick, Sam."

Sam sat on the bed. Dean joined him. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"What happens to the bodies? Reanimated bodies don't last forever."

"Once Awena stops controlling them they –"

Sam looked at him. "They die all over again and the families have to go through it a second time." Sam was quiet for several minutes. "What happens to her now?"

"She signed a confession about the grave robberies. She'll probably go to jail for a while."

"And when she gets out, she can start all over again. She just has to cast the spell on another bauble."

"She can't cast it herself, but if she found someone who could do it the first time –"

Sam nodded. "Where's the pendant now?"

Dean unfastened it from around his neck. "To render this one inoperable, we have to melt it."

Sam took it from Dean and wrapped his hand around it. A moment later he tossed it onto the table between the beds. "We can take care of that later."

Dean looked at him.

"Later tonight and we can get the hell out of here tomorrow." Sam said in response to the unasked question.

"I think we need to talk about this some more." Dean said.

"Not right now. I just want to think about it." Sam looked at him, pleading.

Dean nodded and stood up. "I feel kind of dirty after talking to her. I'm going to grab a shower.

Sam waited until he heard the water running, then took the pendant and left the room.

oooOOOooo

Sam parked the Impala down the street from the sheriff's office. He could have walked, but he thought a quick escape might be necessary. Awena's cell had a window that overlooked a park across the street. Sam sat down on a bench and stared at the window. Except for the bars, he thought the view was much too good for her. He removed the pendant from his pocket and dangled it for several minutes before beginning to rub it. He wasn't sure if his idea would work since the pendant hadn't been in his possession for very long, but ownership was not very well defined in the spell, so he thought he had a shot.

He watched an ambulance arrive several minutes later and his cell phone rang not long after that; he was just getting into the car.

"Where are you?" Dean demanded.

"I went out for some air. And I thought I'd grab us some food."

"The sheriff just called."

"Oh yeah?"

"Awena is dead. She killed herself."

"Imagine that."

"Sam, what did you do?"

"You said she killed herself."

"Where's the pendant, Sam? It's not here."

"Really? Maybe you just misplaced it."

"Sam –"

"Hey, I just had an idea. I'll come and get you – we can go to the bar; get some beer and maybe some nachos. I should be there in about five minutes." he said and hung up.

"Sammy." Dean whispered as he snapped the cover of his phone shut. "Damnit."


	10. Chapter 10

'Til Death

Chapter 10

_Disclaimer:_ Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

_A/N: _So we make it to the end of another Winchester tale. I hope you enjoyed this; it was kind of fun to have Sammy go so dark. Huh, maybe _fun_ isn't the right word… I'll work on that. Thanks to all who have read; I appreciate your feedback. Thanks, too, to Kelli for her excellent typo-hunting skills.

oooOOOooo

To survive it is often necessary to fight and to fight you have to dirty yourself - George Orwell

oooOOOooo

Dean didn't know whether to be angry with Sam, or to feel pity for him. He knew that Jessica's death was beyond anything the young man had had to handle in his short life, despite the world in which they were raised. Sam was only six months old when Mary died; he didn't remember her to miss her. He killed, or helped kill, all manner of supernatural being, but he never lost anyone close to him. John and Dean were all the family he knew; Dean was the only real friend he had. Losing Jessica would have hurt no matter how it happened, but seeing her pinned to the ceiling over their bed and watching her burst into flames – Dean had nothing to compare that to.

But one of the cardinal rules of what they did was that they didn't use their knowledge or weapons against human beings. What Awena had done was wrong and twisted, but the Winchesters didn't kill people. And for Sam, of all of them, to have broken that rule was unfathomable to Dean.

He was standing in front of the window, watching the parking lot, when Sam pulled in a few minutes later. He saw the easy gait of his brother's walk and couldn't believe what he'd done would have no adverse affect on him. He turned toward the door when it opened.

"Ready?" Sam asked.

"I think we need to talk about this."

"Talk about what?"

"For starters, since when do you want to hang out in bars?"

"That's how you like to unwind and celebrate after finishing a job."

"Is that what we did? Finish a job?"

"You found out what Awena was up to. What else is there to do?"

"Where is it, Sam?" Dean asked, using his best big brother voice.

Sam looked at him blankly.

"Come on, man. You know what I'm talking about."

Sam pulled the pendant from his pocket and threw it onto the table.

"How could you do it, Sam? You know the rules."

"Dad's rules?" Sam laughed. "Dad's not here."

"But I am."

"You're not Dad."

"No, I'm not. But Dad always left me in charge –"

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dean. You're not _in charge_."

Not wanting to push his brother away, Dean decided to change his tactic.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You're right. But I still want you to talk to me about this. Sam, what you did –"

Sam looked his brother in the eye. "Awena killed herself. What she had been doing probably finally caught up with her. She was evil, Dean. The world is better off without her."

Dean looked at him.

"Come on, Dean. Let's get out of here and have a couple of beers and tomorrow we can get the hell out of town."

Sam's expression changed from defiant to pleading and that was something Dean could never ignore. When Sam looked at him that way, there was nothing Dean could deny him. He sighed again and nodded.

"All right. Let's get out of here for a little while."

oooOOOooo

Sam was too young to hang out in bars before he left for Stanford and since the brothers reunited, he spent most of his time watching Dean have fun. While Dean shot pool, played darts or flirted with girls, Sam would sit in a corner nursing a beer and either working on the laptop or going through their father's journal. Tonight, after a brief hesitation, he joined Dean is darts and pool. The older brother was a little surprised at his skill considering Sam's aversion to bars.

"Where'd you learn to play?" Dean asked after Sam nearly beat him at a game of darts.

Sam grinned. "There's a lot you don't know about your little brother."

Dean looked at him suspiciously. He would have expected Sam to have some sort of negative reaction to his forcing Awena to kill herself, but his exuberance came as quite a surprise.

"I'm hungry. Burgers?"

"You teased me with nachos, man."

"Yeah, whatever." Sam grinned. "Come on."

Dean hesitated and then followed his brother to an empty table. Sam had already ordered another round of drinks and was looking at the menu when Dean sat across from him.

"Seriously, Sam, where did you learn to play darts? You never seem interested in stuff like that."

He shrugged. "Sometimes Jessica would talk me into hanging out with her friends at a bar near campus. And her folks had a billiard table in their house."

"Did you spend a lot of time there?" Dean asked when the waitress came with their drinks. He hadn't been expecting the shots of Tequila along with the beer.

"They live in San Francisco, so we were there often enough."

"And you'd hang out with _her_ friends at the bar?"

Sam stared into the shot glass. "I had friends, but we preferred the coffee house." He took a deep breath and then held up the glass. "To Mom and Jessica."

Dean tapped his glass against Sam's and they downed the tequila. The waitress came back a moment later to take their food order and Sam ordered two more shots. Dean knew how many he could handle, but had no idea about Sam. Normally after a couple of beers, the younger brother was done for the night, but by Dean's count, he'd already had four shots and three beers. He had a feeling it was going to be a rough night for his brother.

Despite Dean's urging, Sam didn't eat much of the burger he ordered and hardly touched the fries. He finished two more beers and another shot before Dean convinced him to go back to the room. As Sam slid from the bar stool, he had to hold onto the table to keep from falling.

"Come on, big guy." Dean said, leading him to the door. He carefully helped Sam into the car, then slid behind the wheel. He wasn't used to being the designated driver; that honor normally belonged to Sam.

The younger brother leaned against the passenger side door and Dean watched him from the corner of his eye.

"If you're gonna hurl –"

Sam sat up and laughed. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." Dean pulled into a spot in front of their room. "Home sweet home, kiddo."

Sam opened the door and fell out of the car. He rolled onto his back, laughing. Dean rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "Come on, Sam."

Still laughing, Sam grabbed his brother's hand and let Dean pull him into a standing position. Sam put his hand around Dean's shoulder. "You can call me Sammy, big brother."

"Thanks." Dean said, struggling with his much taller brother. He leaned Sam against the building and pulled the door key from his pocket. Sam stumbled into the room, laughing again, and flopped onto the bed.

Dean took a couple aspirin from the first aid kit and handed them to Sam with a bottle of water.

"Sit up, Sam. You need to swallow those."

"Thanks." Sam said, smiling. "You're a good brother, Dean."

"Yeah, I know I am." Dean slipped Sam's coat off and when his brother fell back, Dean pulled off his shoes. "You want to get under the covers?"

"Nope. Room's spinning." Sam grinned.

Dean grabbed the trash can and put it next to the bed. "Use that if you're gonna throw up."

Sam saluted. "Will do."

He looked at his brother and started laughing again. Dean had just turned his back and slipped out of his coat when he heard Sam's laughter turn to sobs.

"Sam?" Dean stood uncomfortably next to the bed.

"She's dead and she's never coming back. She was sexy and smart; she was _normal_ and extraordinary at the same time. And that thing took her away from me." Sam stared at the ceiling. "She was on the ceiling and then she was on fire. Her – her blood – her blood fell onto my face–"

Dean stopped listening to his brain and started to follow his instincts. He sat on the bed next to his brother, and when Sam turned away, Dean pulled him back.

"I know, Sam. I'm sorry. If there was something I could do to change that –"

"No one can change it. Awena wanted me to believe she could, but –" Sam's eyes widened and he looked at Dean. "Oh my God – I killed her."

"Sam –"

The younger Winchester pulled away from Dean and got out of bed. A moment later he was stumbling his way to the bathroom and Dean could hear him throwing up. He leaned over and rubbed his face, then moved to help his brother. Sam was on the floor, leaning against the wall, his arms wrapped around his legs. Dean ran a wash cloth under the faucet and cleaned his brother's face as he sat next to him. Sam leaned against Dean and felt his arm around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry."

"It's gonna be okay, Sam. I promise, it's gonna be okay."

Dean managed to get Sam back into bed and the younger man immediately fell asleep. Dean sat next to him, keeping a hand on his head. He had no idea how to make this better for Sam. He knew he really couldn't fix anything, but he had to point Sam in the right direction so he could get passed it.

As tough as John Winchester was, he was the only one who could possibly understand what Jessica's death had meant to Sam and, not for the first time, Dean wished their father was with them.

"I promise you'll get through this." Dean whispered, caressing his brother's hair. "We'll get through this."

Dean sat with his younger brother until he couldn't stay awake any more. He lay on top of the covers of his own bed and, though he was asleep almost immediately, he was awake when he heard Sam shuffle into the bathroom a couple of hours later.

Sam splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth and even though he used mouthwash, he knew the cotton mouth would be around for a while. He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward, but he wouldn't look at his reflection in the mirror. He was nauseated and he already had a headache, but the drinking wasn't what he was ashamed of.

Dean was right; he knew the rules. And they weren't just John Winchester's rules. There was already a system in place for dealing with humans and, no matter how evil, they were left to the authorities. There were too few people who knew how to deal with the supernatural creatures they hunted to split their time by going after people, too.

It didn't happen often, but right now Sam wished he was a little boy again. When he was a kid, Dean could always make things better. The crappy rooms and apartments they lived in always seemed a little better when his big brother was around. Dean played games with him and watched television with him; anything to make life a little more bearable for the younger brother. Sam wished Dean could make things better for him now.

Dean was sitting up in bed when Sam finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. Sam couldn't look at him, but sat on the edge of the bed Dean occupied.

"Can I get you anything?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shook his head. They sat quietly for several minutes.

"What have I done, Dean?" he whispered.

Dean moved carefully until he was sitting next to his brother.

"I killed her. A human being. It's my fault that she's dead."

"Yeah." Dean said matching Sam's somber tone. "I – I don't know what to say to you, Sam."

Sam smirked. "You're not going to yell at me?"

"That wouldn't do any good." Dean said. "And there's nothing I can say to you that will make you feel any worse than you feel right now."

"You know," Sam clasped his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. "When we were kids, I thought you could do anything. Like Superman or something. I guess most kids feel that way about their fathers, but for me, you were the superhero."

"Sam –"

"You can't fix this, can you?" Sam asked, his voice shaking.

"No. I'm sorry, Sammy, but I can't fix this."

Sam nodded, looking straight ahead.

Dean rarely talked about himself or his feelings, but he encouraged Sam to talk. Ever since Jessica was killed, Dean made himself more available to his brother. They spent a lot of time in the car together, driving from place to place, and sometimes Dean was able to maneuver Sam into talking before the younger brother realized what was going on. He subtly took care of things that Sam didn't think about for himself. Dean decided when it was time to stop for food, he made sure they had necessities, he took care of their finances, and anything else he could to make things easier for Sam.

"I still think the world is better off without Awena." Sam said. "But I shouldn't have done it. Where is the pendant now?"

"In a safe place. I thought you would want to be around when I melted it. Or maybe you could do it."

Sam nodded.

"You know what?" Dean began after a few minutes of silence. "We're gonna get through this. I can't tell you that it's going to be easy, but we'll get past it."

"We?"

"I told you before, we're a team."

"You don't want to kick me to the curb for what I did?"

"Sammy, there is nothing you could do that would make me kick you to the curb."

"Dad –"

"You said it yourself; I'm not Dad. But our father is a subject for some other night."

There was another silence.

"You want to know something else?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"I was thinking about doing the same thing." he said quietly. "To Awena, I mean."

"No you weren't." Sam disagreed.

"She hurt you." Dean shrugged. "No one gets to do that when I'm around."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm gonna throw up again."

Dean moved his legs so Sam could get past him as he ran to the bathroom.

oooOOOooo

The Winchesters slept late the next morning. Sam wasn't feeling very well when he woke up, but he didn't feel as bad as he expected he would. He wasn't up to breakfast, but he did manage to keep some coffee down. Dean packed their things and loaded them into the car; Sam joined him a few minutes later.

"You ready?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

"Get in the car and I'll do a last check of the room."

Before going back outside, Dean called the sheriff's office to let him know they were leaving town.

"We never got a chance to talk." the sheriff began. "About those things you've seen, I mean. But other weird stuff happens around this county and it might be up your alley."

"Maybe Sam and I can come back, but right now, I need to get him out of here. Awena did a number on him and – I just need to concentrate on him right now."

"I understand. Just, uh, keep it in mind okay?"

Dean was intrigued, but he really wanted to get Sam as far away as he could. He was thinking it might even be a good idea to take some time off before they found another job.

Sam was leaning against the passenger side door, dark sunglasses keeping out the worst of the glare. Dean hoped he would be able to get some more sleep.

They stopped at a rest area later. The Impala was the only car in the parking lot and they took advantage of the privacy to get rid of the pendant. It took a lot of heat to melt gold and Dean was glad to find out the pendant was made out of something that only looked gold. Sam chose to supervise the operation, which surprised Dean, but he followed Sam's wishes.

oooOOOooo

A few weeks later, the brothers were staying in another cheap motel room. Dean handled some simple jobs along the way, but neither had been interested in taking on anything big.

Sam refused to talk about Awena, though sometimes he had nightmares about her. He did, however, start to open up about Jessica. He freely talked to Dean about how they met, the things they did together and some of the plans they'd started to make. Hearing these things hurt Dean, but also made him happy because they made Sam happy. Dean suspected that Sam wasn't telling him everything, and he was right.

Sam still believed that Awena saw something evil inside of him, but that was one of the things he kept to himself. He still felt guilt over Jessica's death, and even over the death of his mother. He kept those things from his brother, too.

oooOOOooo

They were watching television in their room one night when Dean's cell phone rang. He reached for it absently and glanced at the caller ID display, then sat up straight.

"What?" Sam asked from his bed.

"Dad. He sent coordinates."

"Time to get back to work." Sam said.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and moved to the desk across the room and pulled the computer from its case.

"It's time."

_Fin_


End file.
